


Possession: a story of the Grand.

by mswhich



Category: The Grand (TV)
Genre: F/M, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 04:00:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1843552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mswhich/pseuds/mswhich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night to remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possession: a story of the Grand.

**Author's Note:**

> I believe this is actually the second fanfiction ever written for Russell T. Davies' 1997 TV series "The Grand." If you're one of the vanishingly small number of fellow fans out there... enjoy.

"You're sure?" he says.

He is braced above her on his elbows, looking down his nose at her; he has looked at her that way so often. Sometimes sneering, sometimes challenging.

His need is evident, and she knows he is holding back. For her.

 _What if I were to say no._ But she does not have to wonder about that. She knows exactly what would happen. He would smile easily and withdraw from her. And he would go back to chipping away at her defenses, little by little, day by day, until at last she  _was_ sure, she  _did_ say yes. Because then he'd have possessed her.

She understands him. As she understands that today she will not tell him no.

"Yes, Marcus," she says. "Take your brother's wife."

His grin is wild and terrifying, but a moment later she forgets that, because he slides into her. She gasps, arches against him. He does not withdraw. His weight presses down on her and he fills her completely.  _More completely than John ever has_ , she thinks before she can stop herself. She lies still beneath him, feeling his weight, feeling him deep inside her. _  
_

"On your wedding day," he says, "I wanted you." He slides back just a little and then fills her with himself again. "I wanted to take you aside in that gown, throw you down on the nearest bed, and make you mine."

"I know," she says, and his eyebrows lift.

She drives her hands into his hair. It gives her a dark thrill to see his perfect coif mussed and tangled in her fingers.

"I've always known, Marcus."

"Clever Sarah," he murmurs. He is moving inside her now, slow and deliberate.

 _He is making it last_ , she thinks.

Long moments pass, with her gasps and his harsh breathing the only noise. She wraps her legs around his to pull him closer to her, eliciting a shudder that travels through his whole body.  _I'm making Marcus Bannerman lose control._

"When you made me kiss you," she says -- his lips part in surprise at the sound of her voice -- "for the keys to the manager's office. When you made me, right there in your office."

"Yes," he says, because that is all he can manage to say.

"I wanted it," she says. "I was glad you made me. I wanted you to ask for more. I'd have given it to you."

"Ah God, Sarah," he says; she can tell he's close. "Right there in my office?"

Her hands are wound tightly through his hair; she brings his head close to hers so that their mouths are nearly touching. "Right there in your office, Mr. Bannerman."

He cannot control himself anymore and with a series of terrible gasping moans, he loses himself to her.

"Yes, Marcus," she whispers into his ear. "Yes."

\--

Afterward, she is pulling on her stockings and adjusting her chemise when she becomes aware that he is watching her.

"I imagine you're feeling quite smug, Mr. Bannerman," she remarks.

He grins. "I do love it when you call me that."

"Of course. Why do you think I do it?"

His grin widens. Predatory, she thinks; though he's already managed to capture his prey this day.

"I imagine as well," she says, "that you enjoy possessing me. Your brother's wife."

"Your imagination is vivid as well as accurate, it seems," he says. Sated and with a tumbler of the hotel's finest whiskey in his hand, he is unflappable.

She pauses in rolling up a stocking, looks to him. "It would be well, Marcus, for you to remember that sometimes...it may be difficult to tell who is possessing whom."

The look on his face is familiar; she saw it not twenty minutes earlier when he was stroking deep inside her. She has, it seems, struck a nerve.

"Sarah," he says. She hears the faint rattle of ice cubes in his glass as his hand trembles. "You are...magnificent."

"Never forget it, Mr. Bannerman," she says.


End file.
